


you can choose, either way you will end up on the news

by r1ker



Category: Midnight Special (2016)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-04 23:36:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6680509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/r1ker/pseuds/r1ker





	you can choose, either way you will end up on the news

To his surprise, Lucas finds it hard to adjust to having Roy back. When he goes to sleep on the first night they spend together in twenty years, he tries rolling over only to be met with someone else curled up next to him. Not that it's awful or something he couldn't get used to over time, but it's just strange. Lucas had gone to bed alone for so long that he'd forgotten what it was like to have another wanting his body not just for the warmth or the solidarity, but for the meaning behind it.

 

So when Roy nudges underneath his arm to claim his rightful place Lucas lets him, tries to fight the shiver running down his back as Roy exhales against Lucas's white t-shirt. Not five seconds after Lucas thinks he's gotten comfortable the air between them shifts. Beneath the cover Roy's legs move restlessly and he starts to retreat from lying against Lucas to propping his head on one hand, crooking his elbow to look at Lucas.

 

"What's happening?" Roy asks him and the words are so soft, the tone reserved for Lucas and him only. Lucas can see very little of his face in the darkness of the room, but from what he's able to pick up on Roy looks so tired. Perhaps they should save this for the morning, talk about the twenty years of things Lucas has had to come to terms with in the span of 48 hours. The way Roy's eyes retain that familiar urgency tell Lucas that that won't be possible tonight.

 

"I went a long time without you sleeping next to me." Urging himself up more on his elbow Roy presses his forehead against Lucas's. Lucas thumbs idly at the sharp jut of his jawbone in an effort to avoid voicing what's causing his brain to produce mindless static. "And you slept with her for so long. It killed me to watch you two with Alton, it was like…like I was infringing on something." Roy makes a sound far in the back of his throat and Lucas wants for all the world to take those words back right now, stow them away in the back of his mind where they ought to have stayed.

 

Roy brings the covers half-abandoned at the foot of the bed over them more now, sidles up even closer to Lucas to let him know that everything has changed. He and Sarah very rarely shared a bed. Once or twice it was out of necessity, the one time it took for them to conceive Alton, and the rest of the time, he slept in his own quarters in the community. But Roy knows where Lucas is coming from with his concerns, is aware that it's going to take time to recognize the change and accept it for its goodness and not what it once held at a different time and a different place.

 

"Don't think for a second I forgot what it was like to have you kneeing me in the back every night," Roy tries to joke and for a second Lucas's face grimaces in a foreign pain. So he shakes his head, again changes the mood. "She didn't sleep with me as much as you think she did. The women were kept usually in their own half of the community if they weren't busy wanting to make kids so I was usually on my lonesome in the men's wing." Lucas tries to hide the relieved sigh that leaves him. He's always considered his feelings towards Roy to be borderline attached but then he realized that was probably half because Lucas was in love with him.

 

"And that gets me too, knowing you went to bed alone every night, because when you were with me that never happened, yeah?" Lucas adds. He remembers all too well that first night after Roy was gone for good. There wasn't any sort of sleeping whatsoever. He'd sat up on his bed all night with as many lights on as he could find, staring into an air conditioning unit until his eyes burned with the cold. As night turned into early morning, that into another hot day in the West Texas summer, he wondered just how long he could go without stepping foot outside of his room.

 

A young man living alone in a beat-down block of apartments wouldn't get much notoriety as long as he wasn't swinging from a beam in a week. And that in itself was no guarantee. He'd been low in the past, usual teenage angst that mainly revolved around realizing that he was gay in a world that didn't have much grasp of the concept. What they did know about gay men was so limited he was terrified to even mention it to anyone. People had crossed his path in subsequent years, the few times on the state trooper beat he'd be dispatched to collect a body found in the room with a "special friend." He'd seen the headlines on the news stations out of Houston and Dallas, young, misunderstood gay men refuting that Ronald Reagan was killing them.

 

It'd take years for him to know why.

 

In a way, once knowing Roy was gone indefinitely set in for good, nice and strong in his addled brain, it felt like someone had torn a hole into him. This was one he'd never encountered before in all the years he'd found himself down, one so gaping and so vast that there was no hope of patching it with anything with any sort of stability. His mom had come by a few days later, held onto him for a few hours like it was any old friend having to see another friend go against their will. When he'd finally lost it, found himself breaking under the weight of the significance Roy being gone had, his mom just treated him like a little boy. That night they'd sat on the living room floor with three boxes of Dominos pizza in front of them, talking about the times they'd shared with Roy as if they had just put him into the ground earlier in the day.

 

_"You and him were like weenie dogs," she says while attacking a box of cinnamon bread with much more voracity a middle-aged Texan woman should have. He's been poking idly at the slices still on his wilting paper plate, choking down two pieces just for her since she went to the trouble to set up this spread in his rundown apartment._

_"Your aunt Gayle had two when we were younger. Bo and Luke and for the life of me you couldn't get them to part. Then Bo'd run off to do whatever an old weenie dog has to do in that neighborhood she lived in, and Luke just…oh, he was devastated." She leans over and rests the top of her blonde head against his shoulder. Tears burn again at his eyes as he closes, the taste of dinner fizzling away into a sour film in the back of his throat. A few from Lucas's closed eyes drip down onto her hair and she leans up, brings him back to her again. "I'm sorry, my love. I'm so very sorry."_

Life had gone on after that. He'd only had a few snaps here and there over the years, most of them being on Roy's twenty birthdays that came and went. Those were the days Mom called "Mom and Lucas Days," and for the entirety of the day, from early morning breakfast to cigarettes on the front porch late at night, she never left his side. When she left they had phone call after phone call in the coming days, and he stopped feeling like he was the only inhabitant of his town. And over time, it got easier.

 

Now it's like it's all coming back over him in waves, and having Roy embrace him as he takes in deep breaths and lets them out slowly, is damn near overwhelming. Roy is making soft little sounds, like he's comforting a wounded animal, and perhaps Lucas is wounded, wounded by time. He fists both hands loosely in Roy's wavy hair and grinds his teeth to the point of pain before he finally shudders out what his tongue was biting back.

 

"I know," a voice sounding like it's miles away says to him. People that had lost loved ones in smoldering vehicles on the side of I-10 didn't react like this, something in Lucas informs him of fleetingly. Still he can't stop, can't stop his heart from racing feverishly in his chest, can't stop his stomach from churning with knowing that he doesn't have to suffer alone anymore. "I know, I know, I'm sorry."

 

After a while Lucas can feel himself coming down from the unimaginable high, puts a hand over his mouth to focus his breathing and will it to slow down. He looks up through red eyes and sees Roy regarding him gently. "Sorry, I'm sorry." Roy casts his eyes down where their knees are now touching beneath the sheets. When he brings his head, his line of sight back up to Lucas it's with a kiss, barely brushing his lips against the other's. Lucas isn't the one to make it take a more urgent route and soon he's on his back on the mattress, Roy over him but with legs angled out to avoid entrapment.

 

Soft kisses are pressed into Lucas's temple, where his hair fades into nothingness at the shell of his ear. For a moment he steps away from his body to let Roy do what was denied from them for so long. The blankets move around them like they're giving way to allow Roy to do what he must. In the process of it all Lucas's shirt falls to the floor, whispering against the tight bristles of the carpet. His skin pebbles from where it makes contact with cool air as a result and he takes in a deep breath, his barrel chest only rising to meet Roy's mouth.

 

"Relax," Roy mumbles when his mouth leaves only to find another place to worry. Lucas can't. He hasn't been this tightly wound in years, hasn't felt that familiar rising of the mercury in his blood in so long that to have it now threatens to kill him with its intensity. Roy continues and Lucas can feel his teeth against his skin, sinking in in some places but grazing in others, fogging over with the heat from his breaths and the uneven groove of his bite. Lucas laughs when he thinks back to the first time he let Roy go home with a mark on him, the unspoken desire to wear turtlenecks in the summer heat, the way Lucas's thumb had pressed against it once, twice, as he waited to drop Roy off back at his house. "What's so funny up there, chuckles?"

 

Lucas huffs and moves past Roy a little to shove his boxers down around his knees. The feel of the sheets against his bare back, the backs of his legs and the soles of his feet where Roy has moved to crook his legs is incredible. It's been a while since he found himself on the receiving end of business like this. In his eighteen-year-old wisdom he'd always been the one to incite the affair between he and Roy, easily taking him down onto a bed, a truck bench, a table if he found himself in a pinch but with a need to stoke the flame. So now he's in the place Roy knew all too well.

 

While he's in his reverie Roy has formed other plans, his head in Lucas's lap with steady inhales and exhales trailing over Lucas's thighs. He's almost driven mad by the way Roy doesn't get on with it, doesn't suck his cock like Lucas wants him to badly than he had originally thought to. He works on breathing in through his nose, out through his mouth as Roy bites his thighs, the joints where Lucas's hips come to meet his body. Fingers tangle in Roy's hair as a silent request to cut to the chase, for once avoid the foreplay in an effort to get to what Lucas has wanted for twenty years.

 

Roy can't stop biting him, moving further and further away from Lucas's aching cock as he bites the backs of his legs, the divots behind his knees, the soft trail of hair on his belly that is situated all too close to his dick. "God damn you," Lucas growls just beneath his breath, cursing himself for not turning the tables and fucking Roy into this new bed, into this new time in their lives. Roy snickers and kisses him just below his ribcage, mumbles his response into a field of freckles below the last rung of his ribs, "He's already damned me to a life with you. Working in my favor, isn't he?"

 

Lucas scoffs, rolls his eyes beneath the half-hood of his eyelids where he can't find the strength to open them all the way. Finally Roy gets to it, sucks his cock with his head bowed as if in prayer, eyes not quite shut but lowered just enough to where Lucas can't quite make out what he's thinking during this. At first Lucas rears up on the knob of his tailbone like his body's shying away from a raging fire, but Roy brings him down right quick. Steadying hands on Lucas's hips, one grabbing ahold on top and the other cupping his ass, they quickly establish and devote themselves into a lilting but insistent rhythm.

 

And for what feels like a lifetime, Lucas disappears from the now.

 

He actually feels like he leaves his body if only for a split second. Something that does manage to keep him in the physical life is both of his hands gripping Roy's head for dear life, knees anchored around the man's ears to keep him further in place, as if he'd be willing to go anywhere that didn't involve Lucas. Sweat begins to bead on his back and legs, sliding down slowly onto the sheets in rivulets as he resists the urge to thrust up into Roy's mouth, and he knows that's not what should happen tonight. This is slow, and it's making up for lost time – twenty years of it – and Lucas will be damned if it's over too soon as a result of his burning urgency.

 

Lucas hangs on until he can't any more; the snake coiling in his belly threatens to unwind if Roy's tongue slips under the underside of his cock _like that_ one more time. With a helpless noise unlike any he's heard before he comes, back a perfect arch and ass gripped firmly by both of Roy's hands. As for Roy, Lucas can see past the haze settling over his line of sight that Roy's hips work feverishly against his part of the mattress. That just makes Lucas come harder, knowing that Roy's getting off to _this_.

 

"Oh, fuck," Lucas cries out softly as one hand attempts to cover most of his face. "Oh, fuck, fuck me." He'll be damned if he doesn't feel Roy actually smile around his cock. Cheekier than he ever let on, Lucas always said. They'd gone through life always being told that Roy was the shy one, the one who never sought to cause any mischief he didn't outright have to.

 

"Maybe later," Roy pulls back just enough to say with the tip of Lucas's cock still in his mouth. It softens now but the majority of his senses tell him to hang on for just a little while longer, take in more of the taste he again has not had for two long decades. Soon he's the one finding his own release, choking on a breath that was on its way to leaving his lungs as he comes through the front of his boxers and onto the sheets below him.

 

Lucas gets urgently needy after that, tugs Roy up by his shoulders to meet him. He never thought he'd be kissing the taste of himself off of Roy's tongue at any point since they came together like this, but he finds himself mesmerized by it. _It took him twenty years to realize he doesn't have to kiss me like a schoolgirl anymore,_ Lucas thinks as Roy kisses him open-mouthed, more an exhalation of pent-up breath than an exchange between lips. For good measure he slips his tongue into Roy's mouth, gathers up quickly the moan that ensues. "No, I'm fucking you for what you just did." Lucas sighs and grabs the ruined bed sheets up from where they've been rumpled and forgotten, dangling off of the foot of the bed. A yawn crawls up his throat and he can't hold it back, eyes growing heavier than at any time he fell asleep in that old trailer. Roy nods where he's got his head in the crook of Lucas's shoulder. "But tomorrow. Wore me out."

 

Roy tips his head in assent and again Lucas can feel that familiar, satiated smile he found himself producing time and time again. Though the height difference speaks numbers as they stand in the daytime, here in night it doesn't mean a thing. Lucas lets six feet curl up next to him as if they are both infinitely small in the universe they've both found each other in, and this night, sleep isn't so hard to come by.


End file.
